I think I knew
I was ready to move on
When thinking of you
Didn’t make me cry

Or make me think that I should cry

I sat, straight faced
Trying to trace the trails
Of the tears dripping off
The backsides of my eyeballs
Hanging from whatever nerve
Lines must hold them in my head
And down the inside of my cheeks

The slow rise of numb
And glowing coals centering on
An orb floating just above
The decent of my throat
Reflecting a feeling I’ve
No need to display

Tomorrow will be
For the first time
A new day

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